Low Point in Training Season

My body threw on the brakes this week. I've finally entered that phase of training that feels like mono. Last weekend, when I last felt good, Susie and I went on a gorgeous 17-miler at Miami Whitewater Forest. When we got back to the car, it wouldn't start. "Nothing wrong with the battery", the park ranger confirmed. "It looks like it's in the ignition. Hopefully it's a $14 dollar part." It turns out the fix was $725 plus $150 tow to back to Cincy-- OUCH!

Hanging out by the lake on a beautiful day, waiting ALL DAY for a tow truck. Not a bad predicatment. 

Susie challenged the local yocals to some feats of strength. "I bet y'all can't plank them boats over yonder."

We are rescued! Let the unexpected $pending begin.

Since the long, food-less day at the park, every workout the following week was a challenge to even get out the door. I've become accustomed to every workout feeling like I'm on a muthafriggin rampage. 

Bluh

I'm only three weeks out from my big race of the year, so it's perfectly normal to be feeling burnt out. I've been pushing my body hard all year. Where's my taper?!!! I also mis-timed some trips to the produce store, leaving me without my typical high calorie fruit staples, having to rely too heavily on also-ran foods. With a better fruit ripening process, I could avoid backing myself into these compromising food choice corners.

Ugly, but brilliant banana ripening "tree" in Gambier, Ohio. I'm commissioning my brother-in-law Mike to build me a beautiful version of one of these. Warmer bananas get ripe faster and are found nearest the top, where the warmest air of the room is.

In the absence of ripe fruit in our house, I've been boiling a ton of potatoes. They have been clutch on long training days. Since they have a high glycemic index, they get treated with trepidation by typical diet advice columns. But, since only 5-15% of my total calories per day come from fat, my cells walls aren't coated with fat, and thus the carbohydrates don't get stuck in my bloodstream. Therefore, I don't get that terrible candida coma even when I eat a ton of potatoes. That's the theory, anyway. In fact, they are sometimes called the bananas of the soil and they are miraculous! They are local too, so I've been busy saving the planet and eating like a true Irishman!

On boiled potatoes for breakfast, I got in a solid 60 mile ride yesterday in some really dense fog in Campbell County, KY. It was very Steven King the whole way-- totally surreal. I was going to skip my run that day, but my brother John invited me on a nice and easy trail run through Ault Park. I didn't eat enough after my ride and we had no ripe fruit in the house, so my brilliant 4H-champion-chef brother suggested a vishiswa smoothie. Genius in theory, mediocre in practice.

Put refrigerated boiled pot-ta-tas into the blender, add water, then blend. (No skin means less fiber. There's plenty of nutrition in a skinless potato)

Wait a minute, John--vishiswa smoothie is really just a fancy name for runny mashed potatoes.

Feel the power? No I don't. I'm totally spent, man. I want my taper!

St. John Vianney subsided almost entirely on potatoes when he discovered a grass diet was almost impossible, and he supposedly wrestled with demons with little-to-no mixed martial arts training.

St. John Vianney-- the Cure d'Ars-- the "ground-banana" mamma jamma slamma

John and I endured about 8 miles after that smoothie. But I made him walk half of it. I just felt horrible, from my belly to my head to my legs. It's my first workout of the last two years that I haven't felt good enough to finish. I made us detoured to my parents house, who always keep a stocked fridge, where fortune of fortunes, my dad was making his famous gaspacho and lemonade, and I pigged out like old times.

Today, after a monster night of sleep, a luscious mango + berry mega smoothie for breakfast, I got in a respectable 15 miler at Lunken. Lap two of three was at Boston Pace (7:10/mile), which felt challenging but not desperate like my other runs this week. Laps one and three were just nice and sleazy and in my comfort zone. Remember, Chris, the goal is not to go the fastest, but to slow down the slowest. That taper is going to feel so good.